


Necessary Adjustments

by Recourse



Series: Prospective Angles [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, Developing Relationship, F/F, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 00:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12876249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: Satya has never been in a relationship before. It's difficult, unusual work for her, but Fareeha makes it all worth the effort.





	Necessary Adjustments

Satya ends up kissing Fareeha because Fareeha doesn’t kiss her first.

Their relationship hasn’t changed much since that quiet moment they’d shared in Satya’s quarters, weaving their fingers together. Much of their time together is still silent, though punctuated with lingering looks at one another, Satya’s light touches on Fareeha’s wrist or knuckles.

In truth, for the first few weeks, Satya is petrified. She’s waiting for expectations to come into play, for Fareeha to suddenly drop her utter and sincere respect for her boundaries, for her to be forced to realize what a mistake she made by getting attached. She’s waiting for this to stop working, the way every other interaction in her life has, to eventually break down and require too much effort from one side or the other to repair.

Instead, Fareeha does nothing except...be happy. It radiates from her. Her soft smile when she catches Satya looking always makes her heart flutter in her chest. It’s unusual, jarring, and yet unlike most things that bother Satya when they are out of place, this is always pleasant. Occasionally, when they sit down together to work on pieces of the Raptora suit, Fareeha will hold out a hand for Satya, but she never touches her without permission. In a way, it’s soothing. In another, it’s maddening.

It is not that she _wants_ to be kissed. It is more that she is curious what kissing is like, and Fareeha is certainly an agreeable candidate for it. But she doesn’t want it to happen when she doesn’t expect it, doesn’t want it to be forced on her like so many other things have been since she was a child, before she was ready. Yet she’s not even sure when or how she should bring it up, or initiate it. Holding Fareeha’s hand is nervewracking enough. What if her palms sweat? Are her fingers truly in the right place? Is Fareeha actually enjoying this or merely gritting her teeth and wishing for a woman who actually knows what she’s doing?

She knows an opportunity when she sees it, however. When Fareeha comes into her quarters, armored up with her helmet tucked under her arm, Satya knows what she’s about to hear, what she should do. She braces herself.

“I’m off to deal with another supposed defection,” Fareeha says, a small smile on her face as Satya stands to greet her. “I doubt she’ll be as charming as you, though.”

Satya feels warmth trickle through her, but gathers herself and approaches Fareeha. “How long will you be away?”

“A day, at most,” Fareeha promises. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. She assures us that she can predict what Talon will be doing to recapture her.”

There’s quiet between them for a moment, Satya looking down at her feet. She thinks of Fareeha taking a rocket to the chest. Other worst-case scenarios. Gently, hesitantly, she reaches for Fareeha’s hand. As they twine their fingers, she asks, “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Fareeha promises. “She’s a slippery one. Always has been. I wouldn’t ever take her at her word.”

“Why was I not sent on this mission?” Satya asks with a twinge of irritation.

Fareeha chuckles. “Angela has trust issues, I’m afraid, and what she says carries a lot of weight around here. I promise some day you’ll be able to fuss over me in real-time.”

“I do not fuss,” Satya insists. “I merely...maintain.”

Fareeha’s eyes crinkle in the most exquisite way as she laughs. “Very well. Maintain. I’ll be back soon.”

Satya should kiss her. This is what one does, you kiss your lover goodbye. And yet, stepping closer like that, moving her face like that, it doesn’t yet feel right to Satya. An alternative solution comes to mind. She raises Fareeha’s hand to her mouth, gently kissing the back of her palm. Fareeha takes in a sharp breath, and that sends a pleasant chill down Satya’s spine.

It will suffice.

“Come back safe,” Satya urges.

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

Satya doesn’t realize how much time she was spending with Fareeha until she’s gone for a day. Her work, such as it is, feels so lonely without Fareeha’s constant presence, even if they rarely actually worked on the same project at the same time. She doesn’t eat lunch with anyone, barely speaks at all. In days past, it would have been a relief, receiving instruction and requests from the always-polite Athena and being left to her own devices.

But Satya does miss her.

She heads to bed that night feeling her absence. It is silly. Fareeha’s been gone less than twenty-four hours. Satya doesn’t _need_ to be touched or smiled at or looked at fondly. She doesn’t even like those things, except when Fareeha does them. She needn’t hear Fareeha’s soft chuckle or kind words. All unnecessary. Yet she wants them, and admitting that, even to herself, feels like an odd vulnerability.

Athena is kind enough to alert her that Fareeha’s shuttle is coming the next morning. She quickly dresses herself and heads out to the hangar bay, getting there just in time to see the landing. As soon as the shuttle doors open, however, Satya’s heart stops.

A small Latina woman with an eccentric, colorful asymmetric hairstyle stands on the ramp, supporting Fareeha under the arm, dragging her right foot behind her. The entire right leg of her Raptora suit is dented and crushed, letting out an awful scraping as the commanders of the Watchpoint gather to greet them. Satya stands off to the side, knowing she shouldn’t interfere, hidden behind Morrison, chest locked up.

She’s fine. She’ll be fine. Ziegler will fix her up without any effort whatsoever; the technology in their lab is miraculous. She edges closer, listening to the rapid-fire speech of the defector.

“Look, it’s not _my_ fault this lunkhead decided to step in front of Doomfist for me,” she says, waving her extended neon fingernails in the air. “ _I_ was already out of the way with my translocator, but she had to play the hero.”

Fareeha chuckles. “Keeping track of you is difficult enough without Talon agents running around everywhere too, Sombra.”

Sombra. The name is familiar. It twists Satya’s mouth on its own. A troublemaker for Vishkar for a very, very long time.

“We must get you down to the medbay as soon as possible,” Ziegler insists. “Jack, Ana, would you mind taking care of intake for me? I can’t let Fareeha stay in this state.”

As Sombra starts complaining about not getting to be poked and prodded by the famous Angela Ziegler, Fareeha looks around behind Jack, her eyes meeting Satya’s. Satya feels heat come to her cheeks. She should have said something, made herself part of this, but it would hardly be professional. She has no actual place being here. But would Fareeha have liked to know—

Fareeha smiles at her and gives her a wink and she stops being able to chastise herself for the moment. “I’m fine,” Fareeha mouths as she’s transferred from Sombra’s shoulder to Ziegler’s.

As Ziegler turns around, she stops in her tracks, narrowing her eyes at Satya briefly before opening them again and offering a smile. “Ms. Vaswani! I had no idea you had joined us. You’re quite the stealth operative when you choose to be.”

Satya clears her throat, feeling caught, although she has as much a right to be here as anyone. “I was merely curious to see how...how the mission went.”

“Well, since you’re here, mind giving me a hand with Fareeha?” Ziegler adjusts her posture with a grunt. “She’s quite heavy with the suit on.”

Satya nods and heads to Fareeha’s other side, supporting her as they drag her through the base. Fareeha gently strokes her shoulder as they move. It is distracting.

Once in the medbay, Ziegler lays Fareeha down on a table, then rushes off to get tools to cut the damaged parts of the suit off of her. Fareeha and Satya are left alone, for a moment. Satya feels ready to burst.

“It’s sweet that you came out to see me,” Fareeha says with a smile. “Sorry it—”

“I _told_ you to be careful,” she hisses, trying to keep her breathing under control. “You could have been killed, why step in harm’s way for — for —”

“It’s all right, Satya,” Fareeha says calmly, reaching up for her. Satya shakes her head.

“You are more valuable than she is. You should have taken no unnecessary risks on her account.”

“What makes you say that?” Fareeha asks with a teasing smile. “Do you have the intel on her? She’s probably a lot more useful than I am.”

“That’s impossible,” Satya states firmly.

Fareeha chuckles. “Is it?”

Infuriating. Satya’s barely able to breathe or think properly and Fareeha’s _mocking_ her? How could—

Oh.

She is being irrational. Fareeha is pointing that out. It is not that Fareeha should save herself for Overwatch’s sake.

“You are valuable to me,” Satya admits, dropping her voice. Fareeha holds up a hand, and Satya takes it gratefully, letting the contact ground her.

“It was nice to see you.” Fareeha flexes her fingers between Satya’s. “I missed you.”

“As did I.” Satya’s anger has faded now, and her embarrassment. All that’s left is yearning, for Fareeha to be safe. For Fareeha to be hers.

Now may be a good time.

Satya swallows. So, just...lean down and put your face next to hers. It sounds so absurd if she thinks of it like that, all of it is, and yet this urge within her is strong.

She gently kisses Fareeha’s cheek, unsure if she’s even doing it properly. Is it really so simple as it looks? It does feel...nice. What would Fareeha’s lips feel like against her own? When will she be so bold?

When, not if. Is she thinking so far ahead now?

Fareeha _giggles,_ which is completely unfair. Then, “Hey, Angela.”

Satya’s cheeks flare with heat as she turns to face the doctor, who’s looking at the both of them with a somewhat sour expression. As soon as she makes eye contact with Satya, her face adjusts again, giving her a congenial smile. “Satya, would you mind leaving us for a while? I need to see to my patient.”

“Of course,” Satya says, almost wanting to bow and excuse herself. And yet, she has the odd sense that she has the right to be here, that she could be helpful, that she ought to stay by Fareeha’s side. Yet she knows it’s irrational, all at the same time.

Now isn’t the time to give into her emotions. She makes her exit quickly, and waits for Fareeha to find her.

 

* * *

 

As Satya forms the final limb of the new Overwatch armored flight suit, the _Ibis,_ Fareeha stares on, eyes wide. They stand in the workshop, alone late at night, the rest of the pieces spread out on a table before them.

“It should be more than capable of withstanding another hit from Doomfist,” Satya tells her, flashing the gauntlet into existence. “I have corrected many flaws, and built several small shield generators into the armor itself to bolster its effectiveness and force any damaged parts back into place.”

“It’s beautiful,” Fareeha murmurs, running her hand over the glossy white-and-blue metal, the soft thrumming of the internal mechanisms audible in the silence.

Satya flushes. “It is functional.”

“You didn’t need to add the color.”

“It cost little effort.”

“But you did it anyway.” Fareeha turns to her, their eyes locking under the work light. “It’s as pretty as you are,” she adds, hesitantly reaching out, fingertips brushing Satya’s cheek.

It’s a cheesy line. Saccharine, almost. So why does Satya feel warm and pleased with herself and bashful all at once? Is it simply that...that she finds Fareeha beautiful as well, and to be called such by her matters?

Satya closes her eyes, leaning into the touch. Goosebumps prick on her neck. _Now._

Fareeha lets out a surprised little sound as their lips connect, like she wasn’t expecting Satya to actually do it. To Satya, it doesn’t make sense. How can such simple, soft contact make her knees shake beneath her? Why the jolt in her stomach? It’s so small a thing.

But it isn’t, not at all, at the same time. As she pulls back, trying to make it a complete thing, a careful closing of her lips, she sees that Fareeha’s closed her eyes as well, holding them closed even as they separate. She looks so blissful. Contented.

When she does open her eyes again, she puts her arms around Satya, enveloping her unexpectedly, but it feels so welcome. They hold each other close, heads on one another’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Fareeha whispers, Satya’s heart beating against her chest.

 

* * *

 

As Satya leaves her quarters, someone taps her on the shoulder. “¿Qué onda?” sounds in her ear just before she whips around with her hand on her photon projector. Sombra pulls back and covers her mouth, giggling.

“Jumpy, aren’t you, amiga?” she asks with a smirk. “Just trying to get your attention.”

Satya furrows her brow. “And what is it you need my attention for?”

“Curiosity’s sake. Go ahead, keep going wherever you were going, we can talk and walk,” Sombra urges, skipping ahead of her. “I just want to know about you and your flighty friend.”

Something strikes Satya in the chest, but she straightens her back and starts walking towards Zenyatta’s common room, refusing to let this creature get a rise out of her. “And what is meant by that?” she asks, keeping her head straight, watching Sombra’s jittery movements out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh, _come on_ , don’t make me spell out absolutely everything, Symm. You and the not-ancient Amari. What’s going on?”

Satya stiffens. It is not as though they have been keeping secrets. They simply haven’t announced their relationship to the world. There is no reason for shame. There are no regulations against it in this highly irregular operation to begin with.

“What business of yours is it?” is her response regardless.

“Symm, honey, you can’t hold that business in India over my head forever,” Sombra complains. “I’m going one hundred percent legitimate now, white-hat, all the way.”

“That’s nice. I fail to see what relevance this has to Fareeha and I.”

“Ooh, first-name basis.”

“Sombra,” Satya warns.

“What? Gossip is fun.”

Satya reaches the door and gives Sombra a piercing look. “You will not follow me in here.”

Sombra lets out an exaggerated sigh. “ _Fine._ Be that way. I’m sure Fareeha will be more talkative with me.” She chuckles. “She is such a pretty thing.”

Satya clenches her fist to avoid slapping her. “Do not call her a _thing_ again.”

Sombra laughs out loud. “Very well, chica, very well. Have fun sitting and listening to a robot’s balls go _bong._ ”

Satya enters the room and slams the door behind her. Zenyatta looks up at her, face expressionless as always.

“I sense that you need this today more than most days,” he says, a gentle humor in his electronic voice.

“Is silence not the entire point of this exercise?” Satya shoots back.

“It is. My apologies. Please sit, Ms. Vaswani. I find interacting with Sombra to be rather unbalancing as well.”

Satya huffs, but she does sit down and cross her legs beside the Omnic, and he does not speak again. In time, she comes to look back on their opening conversation and appreciate that he tried to relate to her. As useless as that always seems to be.

She doesn’t know that she likes having others know about her and Fareeha. But it seems she will have little choice than to adjust to it.

 

* * *

 

Satya’s very pleased to find out she’ll finally be sent on a counter-operation against Talon, but is less pleased to be told that she must have a new physical done before deployment to ensure that she’s been keeping up her rigid physical fitness program in the Watchpoint. But, it is a reasonable precaution, and she has nothing to hide, so she enters Ziegler’s office simply wanting to get things done.

She sits down on the table as Ziegler gets out her clipboard, smiling. “Now, Satya, before we begin, I have some basic questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Very well,” Satya says, folding her hands in her lap.

“Are you sexually active?”

Satya recoils, then gathers herself. Right. A reasonable question for a healthcare professional to ask. “No,” she answers.

“I see.” Satya glances at Ziegler and catches a strange look in her eye before she jots down a note on her clipboard. “And have you ever been screened for sexually transmitted diseases or infections?”

Satya swallows. “No.”

“Any reason why not?”

“I have never…” Stop blushing. Don’t be ridiculous. “It has never been necessary.”

“I understand your meaning.” Ziegler scribbles on her clipboard again, a quirk in her smile, almost smug. Satya narrows her eyes. Is there something else behind this after all? Does Angela Ziegler have some...vested interest?

No. No reason to suspect that of her. The following questions are almost foolish to ask — smoking status, chronic conditions, all things that should be on record already. In fact, didn’t she ask these questions last time around? It’s only been a few months. Then again, these things can change.

It is only when she undresses that she starts to feel the air shift around her. The twist of Ziegler’s mouth as her eyes take in her body, as she prods for lumps and abnormalities with her hands, checking the connections of her prosthetic arm. Nothing _happens,_ there is nothing that Satya can mark as a definite issue, and yet something about the entire experience feels wrong. She’s grateful when she can dress again.

“You seem to be in perfect physical shape,” Ziegler states, writing more notes on her clipboard. “You will undoubtedly blow all of us away on your first mission. I’ll be joining you, of course — it’s been a while since I got to use my suit, but I’m rather looking forward to it. Fareeha and I make an excellent team.”

Satya feels a stab of...something. She doesn’t like that idea very much at all, and suddenly she recognizes _exactly_ what was going on during this entire examination, what Ziegler must be feeling as well, to snipe like this.

She can give back.

“I’m sure the armor I built for her will keep you both safe,” she says, standing and heading for the door.

Something about the twisted look on Angela’s face is quite satisfying.

 

* * *

 

They aren’t the type to embrace each other fiercely after a hard-won fight, not like Zarya and Mei. No, Satya’s content to wait for the night after they return to the Watchpoint, for Fareeha to knock on her door and enter with a bottle of wine clutched in her hands.

“Best of Chateau Guillard,” she says with a smile as the door closes behind her, two glasses in her other hand. She sets them down on Satya’s desk. She pauses, just before uncorking the bottle. “Do you drink?” she asks. Satya chuckles behind her hand.

“I’ve never had the opportunity,” she admits, walking up to Fareeha. She’s grown less embarrassed to look her over, now, to admire the definition of her muscles in that tank top, the softer curves beneath. “Anything is worth one experiment, no?”

“You are very lucky I won’t take that comment anywhere unnecessary,” Fareeha says with a smile. Satya remembers Angela’s questions about sexual activity and refuses to let them make her feel ashamed. Instead, she lets the idea go, lets it percolate through her. Yes. Perhaps an experiment will be in order.

Not tonight. But the idea isn’t so unwelcome.

Fareeha pours their drinks, and Satya takes a seat in her chair, allowing Fareeha to sit on her desk itself. She knows it’s improper, but Fareeha has allowances, and Satya rather likes looking up at her from this angle. They clink glasses, and Satya takes her first drink.

She holds it in her mouth thoughtfully, then swallows and sets her glass down. “Vile,” she states, and Fareeha bursts into laughter, barely covering her mouth to avoid spraying wine everywhere. Satya laughs along with her, leaning back into her chair and grinning up at her, her eyes glittering in the blue light from her monitor.

“You are a delight,” Fareeha sighs, setting her glass down. “And I do think it’s gone off. I thought wine was supposed to age well.”

“What is it supposed to taste like?”

“Well, mostly like that but a tad less sour.” Fareeha slides off the desk and gently cups Satya’s chin. She closes her eyes, feeling the rough calluses of Fareeha’s fingertips. Such lovely sensation.

“We made a great team,” Fareeha says softly. “If I hadn’t been able to run back to you for all those spot-repairs…”

“You don’t think the good doctor would’ve kept you so well-maintained?” Satya teases.

Fareeha laughs. “She’d have kept me alive, but I doubt she’dve been able to just whip me up a new jetpack out of thin air in the middle of a battle.” She leans in, letting Satya complete the connection and kiss her. Satya’s starting to really enjoy this.

They link hands, and Fareeha carefully pulls Satya to her feet, then wraps her arms around her waist. “You are amazing,” she breathes. “So beautiful.”

Satya’s surprised when she’s kissed again, and then again, Fareeha’s hands tightening around her, their mouths connected. It’s nice, at first, but then Fareeha’s lips start feeling sloppy, and Satya feels her _tongue,_ and she has to put a hand on Fareeha’s chest and push against her.

“I’m sorry,” Satya says, face burning, shouldn’t she like that sort of thing? Isn’t that what normal people want? “Please, stop.”

“I’m so sorry,” Fareeha babbles, taking her hands off Satya. “I shouldn’t have — I—”

“It’s all right,” Satya assures her, looking away. “I know most would appreciate your passion.” Something wells in her throat and she refuses to let it affect her. “It was simply too...messy. Perhaps I shouldn’t be in this sort of relationship.”

Fareeha steps back, her eyes watering. “Are you breaking up with me?” she asks, voice wavering.

Satya gasps, heart jumping. “No!” she exclaims, grabbing Fareeha’s hand, fear pounding through her veins, irrational, stupid, unnecessary, she shouldn’t react this way to a misunderstanding, but — “I, I am simply saying, I know you might get tired of, of me, and—”

“I won’t, Satya,” Fareeha promises. Her voice softens, and she swallows. “I won’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” Satya assures her. “It was unexpected, but I am not...entirely opposed to escalation.” Fareeha’s eyes widen.

“Oh,” she murmurs.

Satya bites her lip, feeling more foolish by the second. “I believe I need time. And perhaps I will be different than...than others, that you might have had. Is that all right?”

“Of course, Satya.” Fareeha closes the distance between them, brushing some of Satya’s hair behind her ear. “And I don’t need anything from you. Everything at your own pace. Okay?”

Satya nods.

“May I kiss you?”

“Once,” Satya breathes, and Fareeha smiles. Fareeha is soft, this time, gentle, patient. It sends shivers all the way down to Satya’s toes. It feels better than passion. It feels like understanding.

 

* * *

 

 

It is after another successful operation that Fareeha joins Satya in her quarters again, this time turning the monitor screen towards the bed and asking if she’d be okay with watching a film together. Another thing Satya has give herself little time for, over the past few years, but being with Fareeha seems to make wasting time bearable.

It is enjoyable enough, though Satya finds the plot inconsistencies within seconds and guesses the twist before half the clues are revealed. Fareeha takes it in stride. What is more important is sitting beside her, leaning on her shoulder, holding her hand, watching her move when she gets up to retrieve the microwave popcorn she snuck on-base. When the credits roll and the room goes dim in their thin light, they fall down beside one another on the bed, Fareeha slinging an arm across Satya and nestling into her shoulder.

There’s no talk between them. That is what Satya values the most. These comfortable, wonderful silences. The warmth of Fareeha’s breath on her neck. The way her muscles pull taut when she squeezes Satya gently.

“I suppose I should head back to the barracks,” Fareeha says as Athena turns the screen off for them.

Satya swallows. Yes, she should. That is how things have been. They have their own spaces, and that’s the way Satya had preferred it. But what would it be like, to lie with another? To hold someone as she falls asleep? To feel Fareeha’s presence even in her uneasy dreams?

Fareeha slips off the bed, stretching in the dark. “Goodnight,” she says with a yawn.

“Wait.” Satya swings her legs over the side of the bed and reaches out, taking Fareeha’s wrist.

“Wait?” Fareeha asks, turning back to her.

“Would you care to stay with me, tonight?” Satya knows she needn’t be nervous. Fareeha knows what a step this is.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Satya rises to her feet and kisses Fareeha’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“I’m hardly doing you a favor,” Fareeha says with a chuckle as Satya flips the lights on so that they may ready themselves for bed. “I’m the lucky one.”

Satya blinks. How could Fareeha possibly think such a thing? Clearly she is the one being favored, here, she is the one who has received a gift. It had always seemed impossible to her, that someone might want to get close to her, even after seeing all her faults and deficiencies and eccentricities. Surely Fareeha has others who would be better for her and her courtship with Satya is merely a sign of deep kindness.

Or perhaps she truly is grateful, and upon thinking that, another thought hits Satya like a battering ram.

Maybe that’s what love is.

The warmth that spreads through her is familiar, but the intensity is such that she feels as though she’s glowing. She embraces Fareeha rather suddenly, but is received with grace.

Should she simply say it? Is it so easy to express the depth of her feeling?

“I love you,” she whispers, and it fits into place, and everything makes sense.

Fareeha squeezes her. “I love you too.”

As they separate, Satya gives her one last kiss before heading into the bathroom, giving Fareeha time to get herself ready as well. She undresses after brushing her teeth, carefully, trying not to let her mind race too much. Fareeha may enjoy seeing her in nothing but a camisole and underwear. The thought makes her blood rush.

As she leaves, she finds Fareeha already lying in her bed, clad similarly to herself. They catch each other’s eye, Satya trying to control and measure her breathing.

Escalation.

Not now.

She shuts the lights off and crawls in beside Fareeha. In time, they find a comfortable position, Fareeha’s back against Satya’s chest, held tight and secure, that she may know she is still here.

 

* * *

 

Satya hears Oxton’s distinctive loud, accented voice as she passes by the mess hall. She’s gotten rather good at ignoring it, but this time her words break through.

“Eey, Fairy,” Oxton says, her sly tone betraying knowledge she should not have. Satya flattens herself against the wall just outside the doorway, listening, fist clenched at her side.

“Yes, Lena?” Fareeha replies, a chuckle in her voice. “Is Fairy my nickname now? You keep switching it.”

“It is now, yeah,” Oxton confirms. “But anyway, _I_ happened to see _you_ walking out of Satya’s private room this morning, grinnin’ like an idiot. I had to check with Athena to make sure I wasn’t seein’ things.”

“And?”

“Well, you need to tell me what’s goin’ on because we’re _friends_ and this is juicy.”

Satya grits her teeth, even as Fareeha chuckles. “What is there to tell?”

“Well didya do ‘er yet?”

Satya claps a hand over her mouth. The _nerve._

“I hardly think that’s any of your business.”

“Oh, c’mon, you can tell me,” Oxton urges. “I can give you the skinny on me and Emily in return if you like—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Fareeha sighs. “Listen, Lena — she’s wonderful.”

Satya listens carefully, moving her hand from her mouth to her chest, feeling her heart beating there.

“She’s so smart, and funny even if she doesn’t know it, and...and she’s very sweet. And the way she kisses, just…” Satya’s never heard a swoon before, but that seems like what she’s hearing now. “It’s...she’s so dignified. Stately, almost. Always just the one kiss but it leaves you weak in the knees. I live for it. I feel like I’m dating a queen.”

Satya sighs happily. Such a romantic. 

“You are so whipped!” Oxton squeals in delight. “It’s adorable, really,” she adds, and Satya can just imagine the withering look Fareeha must’ve given her. “I’m happy for ya, luv. Does your mum know yet?”

“I’m sure she does, but I do not hear any passive-aggressive hints, so I wouldn’t know.”

Oxton has a snort in her laugh that is almost endearing. “When are you two going to start getting along?”

“It’ll be eons, I’m sure.”

Satya walks on quickly, knowing she’s late for her meeting with Sombra to help redesign Watchpoint security. But her heart doesn’t slow for an hour.

 

* * *

 

It is on a random night that Satya makes her decision. Fareeha faces her on the bed, head tucked beneath Satya’s chin, their breathing just beginning to slow. But Satya’s been feeling along Fareeha’s side, smoothing down Fareeha’s skin with the palm of her prosthetic hand, gliding it over her tank top.

She pulls back slightly so that she can kiss Fareeha, just once, as always, leaving her hand on Fareeha’s hip. Fareeha giggles.

“What was that for?” she asks, and the question is almost too direct. Satya is ready. Perhaps that’s all that need be said, and yet it is so much to say.

“Fareeha,” is but one word, breathed out in a voice Satya barely recognizes as her own, but it conveys everything she means at once. Fareeha gasps as Satya gently pushes her fingers under the hem of Fareeha’s shirt, feeling along the bare flesh as goosebumps prick up on Fareeha’s hard stomach.

“Satya,” she whines, her voice coming out high as she shifts onto her back. Satya finds it so natural to follow her motion, to straddle her. This is an _excellent_ angle to look at Fareeha from. She leans down over her, guiding her hand further up. “W-wait,” Fareeha says, placing a hand over Satya’s, stopping her for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I…” Satya looks over to the side. “I have never…”

“Oh,” Fareeha breathes.

“But I want to.” Satya knows that, knows that she wants something more. She is not naive, she has done her research in idle moments, this needn’t be a production. She draws her hand back, then grips the bottom of Fareeha’s top. “May I?”

“Yes,” Fareeha groans, leaning forward to let Satya strip it off entirely. She delicately drops the garment off to the side of the bed, then places her hands on Fareeha’s collarbone, breathing carefully. And here’s where the plan falls apart. Does she simply...touch her? Fareeha’s chest rises and falls rapidly under Satya. Fareeha licks her lips and swallows. “S-Satya,” she repeats, taking hold of Satya’s wrist and pulling it down to her breast. Fareeha’s body is so soft, in the right places.

Satya takes a deep breath and wills herself to simply _experiment._ She gently runs her fingers across Fareeha’s hard nipples, feeling them spring back under her touch, Fareeha tensing and letting out a soft whine. She takes one delicately between her human thumb and forefinger, pinching slightly. Fareeha squirms beneath her and Satya feels suddenly dizzy, heat rushing down her body to her core.

Fareeha seems to know how Satya would handle something like this, putting her hand over her eyes because she knows Satya doesn’t want to kiss her now, merely touch her, feel her. Her mouth twists as Satya toys with her chest, seeing what stimulation produces the most fascinating and thrilling result. Eventually, through grit teeth, she begs, “D-don’t be such a t-tease.”

“Oh? Am I a tease?” Satya asks, heady with some strange sense of control, even _power._ “What is it that I am teasing at?”

Fareeha laughs, though it sounds almost like a sob. “You're impossible,” she bemoans.

“Is this what you seek?” Satya carefully moves her prosthetic hand down further, tracing the line of Fareeha’s abs towards the waistband of her panties. Fareeha chokes, and Satya is only spurred on.

She decides to continue to draw this out, because it’s making her feel all sorts of wonderful things to do so and she needn’t cut this short so quickly. She ghosts her hand over Fareeha’s crotch, then slowly presses in through her underwear. Fareeha arches into her hand, silently begging for more as she covers her mouth with one hand.

“My quarters are soundproof,” Satya reminds her as she cautiously starts rubbing Fareeha, feeling for her clit, watching her reactions. Fareeha uncovers her mouth, letting loose small, soft moans.

“Please,” Fareeha pleads, pushing herself into Satya’s hand again. “H-harder.”

“Like so?”

“Ah!”

Fareeha responds beautifully to the increased pressure, tremors running through her form. Satya can feel the heat of her when she presses in, the way the cotton’s grown damp. She’s short of breath. The motions are easy, simple, the rhythm falling into place, it hardly seems like it should be affecting Fareeha so. She wonders what Fareeha’s feeling. If she could feel that way, too.

Fareeha hooks her thumbs into her panties and pulls them down slightly, as much as she can from her pinned position. Satya smiles and takes hold of them herself, drawing them down Fareeha’s legs as slowly as she can, listening for Fareeha’s whine, watching her shake in anticipation.

She is gorgeous.

After she drops the last of Fareeha’s clothing over the side of the bed, Satya resumes her position, hand positioned just above the tuft of black hair between Fareeha’s legs. Fareeha’s skin is warm, slick with sweat.  “ _Satya_ ,” she groans, one hand going to her own chest, the other pushing Satya’s hand further. “Please.”

Satya exhales. Direct contact. Yes. The texture of Fareeha is surprising, her metal fingers gliding easily through it though it feels thick. She will have to wash her hand later. But _later_ is the operative word, she can’t imagine stopping now, not when Fareeha is writhing before her, jolting every time her fingers run down past her entrance. Satya swallows. What if she hurts Fareeha? She’s never done this before, she could make a mistake, is her prosthetic too—

“I-in,” Fareeha gasps, and the decision is made.

Satya starts with one, and immediately, she’s struck. This is so different. A sort of intimacy she’s never felt before, as Fareeha contracts around her. More than surface level, more than their chaste kisses or embraces. She’s not even sure what to do now, not ready to move even as Fareeha raises her hips, hands curling into fists.

Her first experimental motion has Fareeha squirming against her, as if guiding her to where she needs Satya’s touch most. Satya closes her eyes and feels along Fareeha’s inner walls with the pad of her finger, until she grazes one oddly-textured spot and Fareeha lets out a strangled “There.” Satya curls her finger into a come-hither position, slowly stroking that spot until Fareeha asks for “Two,” and then she can feel all of Fareeha around her, writhing and clenching as she pleasures her. Fareeha’s little grunts grow higher and faster until she’s practically hyperventilating, thrusting herself against Satya’s fingers, and then—

Satya’s never seen or felt anything so perfect in her life. Fareeha’s legs shoot up, unbalancing her for a moment before wrapping around her waist as she presses down around Satya, sobbing out her release, eyes squeezed closed, teeth clenched together in ecstasy. Satya’s breath catches in her throat as Fareeha releases her, falling flat to the bed again, hand over her mouth.

Satya doesn’t withdraw from within her, not yet. She closes her eyes and feels their connection, listening to their breath in the silence. Something burns deep within her, keeping her warm and ready, but patient, wanting Fareeha to be fully ready before asking for anything.

Fareeha sits up, Satya’s fingers slipping out of her as she backs herself up against the wall. She pushes some of her sweat-soaked hair off her face, still panting, but looking at Satya hungrily. Satya leans forward, capturing her in an embrace, breathing together to slow her heart so that she may know what to do next.

“Is there anything you want?” Fareeha asks.

“Yes.” What, exactly, she’s not sure of yet. But she wants something.

“Show me.”

Satya pulls back, thinking. She strips off her top, feeling a surge at the way Fareeha loses her breath at the sight. She wants to stay here, above Fareeha, stay in control. At her own pace, like Fareeha said.

Oh, how Satya loves her.

She takes hold of Fareeha’s wrist, drawing her hand down her body. She considers bringing Fareeha’s attention to her breasts, but something about it doesn’t feel right, right now. She wants just this, just Fareeha cupping her between her legs, through her underwear. She braces herself against Fareeha’s shoulders and pushes herself down onto Fareeha’s hand, closing her eyes and sighing at the pressure, the little jolts of pleasure from her own movement against Fareeha. Fareeha is strong and steady, letting Satya ride her hand, the other gripping Satya’s waist hard to keep her balanced.

After Satya’s found that she’s no longer warming up, that sensation seems to have plateaued, she removes Fareeha’s hand for a moment and quickly rids herself of her bottoms, feeling a little jump as the cool air strikes her damp skin. Then again, the same position, only now Fareeha can truly feel her, separating her fingers to give Satya the most discrete pleasures as she rocks against her. Satya’s face starts to heat up, her breath escaping her as she leans further into Fareeha, letting loose soft moans as she builds.

She only draws back to take hold of Fareeha’s slick fingers and guide them inside of her. Fareeha rests her thumb against Satya’s clit like a reflex and she keens into the touch, feeling the deliberate positioning of Fareeha’s fingers within her as she grinds into them. She squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on nothing but the feeling of Fareeha inside her, the movement of her hips, the sounds welling up from her chest. She bites her lip, muscles tensing in anticipation as Fareeha’s thumb circles.

She comes with a cry, forcing herself down onto Fareeha’s hand, arms giving out as she falls forward and lets the aftershocks wrack her body. Fareeha pulls out of her, softly stroking her lower lips to keep her shuddering, panting into Fareeha’s shoulder, mouth open and spilling onto her skin. Fareeha’s hold on her slackens, turning from brace to comfort.

As Satya cools, she feels the liquid coming out of her mouth, the tear-tracks on her cheeks, and flushes with embarrassment. So much for the dignified queen Fareeha saw in her. But Fareeha’s still holding her, pressing a kiss into her forehead.

“You’re amazing,” she whispers. Satya swallows, barely managing to raise herself up enough to wipe her mouth and wrap her arms around Fareeha in turn.

“Am I?” Satya mumbles, feeling so open and vulnerable that she’s not sure she can stand it.

“Of course you are.”

“You’ve...you’ve had others, haven’t you?”

“None so wonderful as you.” Fareeha puts a hand under her chin and meets her eyes, then wipes her cheek. Satya lets loose a shuddering sigh. She can hear the honesty in Fareeha’s tone.

She doesn’t want to get off of her. Staying here is impossible, she knows that, what horrid things it would do to her back if she were to fall asleep here. She presses her ear to Fareeha’s heart and hears it beating, strong and certain.

They do not separate until Satya finds the strength to move again.

 

* * *

 

 

Satya awakens first in the morning, and crawls out of bed carefully to the bathroom. She initially intends only to wash her hands, but decides on a full shower instead, wanting to be fresh and clean.

She wraps a robe around herself and steps back into the main room, finding Fareeha just starting to stir, propping herself up on her elbows. Her hair is an artful mess, her muscles flexing pleasingly in her arms as the blanket falls from her chest. Strange how unkempt on herself can be so beautiful on another.

Fareeha grins at her, pushing hair out of her eyes. “I was almost certain last night was a dream, for a moment,” she says as Satya sinks down beside her.

“A pleasant one, I hope.”

Fareeha chuckles. “That’s one word for it.”

Ambiguity. Satya should know by her tone that it is a pleasant joke, yet it nags at the back of her head. She looks down at her lap. “Is there anything I should have done differently?”

“No, no,” Fareeha insists, touching her shoulder and leaning around to kiss her cheek. “You were perfect.”

“There is no need to mince words,” Satya says. “You have had others before, surely there is something—”

“Satya, last night was wonderful and I could do it again a thousand times,” Fareeha assures her, hugging her from behind, now. “If you’re asking about things we could do later, we can talk about that, but you did _nothing_ wrong last night.”

Satya turns her prosthetic hand over, staring at the projector in the center of her palm. “My prosthetic was not...odd?”

“It was,” Fareeha admits.

“I can use the other, it—”

“Not in a bad way!” Fareeha corrects, squeezing Satya’s bicep. “I...might have been fantasizing about it for a while. It’s different, but good. Good thing it’s warm.”

“It does regulate its own temperature.” Satya chuckles weakly. “...I was not too demanding?”

“That was the best part,” Fareeha rumbles lowly in her ear.

Satya flushes, biting her lip. _You_ just _showered,_ she chides herself. She leans back into Fareeha’s arms, letting her kiss her ear, allowing herself a giggle at the odd sensation.

Only right here, right now, has Satya ever felt so secure.


End file.
